Death on the Diamond

There's an inherent danger in any movie director taking on a sports movie, and it's this: Very few directors know anything at all about the sport they're depicting, while the viewers they're courting know EVERYTHING about it.

That being a given, I am very impressed that this movie --- remember, it was made only a few years after talkies appeared --- has actual locations shots at L. A.'s Wrigley Field, Cincinnati's Crosley Field, and many actual MLB scenes at St. Louis's Sportsmans Park (Busch Stadium #1). That baseball shrine in north St. Louis was my Holy Grail as a boy.

Like a cop watching a crime movie and slapping his forehead going "That would never happen in real life", any true baseball fan will have his face-plant moments watching this --- like very early on when the put-upon umpire keeps pronouncing his title as "empire" --- but give it a chance. It's surprisingly authentic, and topical, with today's sports gambling clearly out of control, and MLB hanging its integrity from a Sword of Damocles human hair, making this 1934 movie a prescient parable of where pro sports' Faustian deal with gambling is certain to lead.

There's one gaffe so huge you could steer Elon Musk's ego through it: What should be the movie's most suspenseful scene, the denouement, instead is laugh-out-loud funny, in part due to a very poor choice of sound effect.

It was made not to be an Oscar nominee or Ebert's Great Movies entry, but just to be the final in a triplex at the corner movie theater, keeping summertime moviegoers buying popcorn and soda back when baseball was the national sport.

Set your expectations accordingly and you might enjoy it, especially when a baserunner is gunned down trying to score.